Maybe. One jewel encrusted, one more practical for daily use--
Alistair wraps both arms around him, one low on his waist and the other bent up to cup his neck with a thumb against his jaw. It's a hug, sort of. A hug that goes on for a while. He can't promise this won't kill him ever, at all, but it won't while Alistair is breathing.
"Thank you," he says, at first quiet from the sincerity of it, how glad he is not to be facing down the end of everything without Zevran and how happy he'd be to follow him into it if necessary, then louder as he jokes: "If they're going to make someone their savior I'm glad it's someone with some sense."
no subject
Maybe. One jewel encrusted, one more practical for daily use--
Alistair wraps both arms around him, one low on his waist and the other bent up to cup his neck with a thumb against his jaw. It's a hug, sort of. A hug that goes on for a while. He can't promise this won't kill him ever, at all, but it won't while Alistair is breathing.
"Thank you," he says, at first quiet from the sincerity of it, how glad he is not to be facing down the end of everything without Zevran and how happy he'd be to follow him into it if necessary, then louder as he jokes: "If they're going to make someone their savior I'm glad it's someone with some sense."